


A Night to Remember

by LauratheLittle



Series: A Night to Remember [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings (Movies), Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drunken Amnesia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-04-22
Packaged: 2017-11-04 03:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/389342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LauratheLittle/pseuds/LauratheLittle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aragorn awakens the morning after his coronation; the only problem is that he can’t remember who is in his bed</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first LOTR FPS that I have written, though I have posted it on other archives previously. I would appreciate any feedback that you have.
> 
> Disclaimer: I in no way own any of the characters or locations in this story.

The bright morning light streamed through the window, waking the sleeping king on the bed. Groaning, he covered his head with his pillow. Normally he would have closed the curtains before going to sleep, if doing anything for a couple of weeks could be called normal. He must have forgotten them last night, though he couldn’t remember why that would have been.

 

Aragorn pushed the pillow down onto his head, trying to block out the light seeping in around the edges. He was determined to get another hour of sleep before getting up to begin the business of the day. Just as he was drifting back off to sleep, the bed shifted and the blanket was tugged off him. Aragorn started briefly; there was someone else in bed with him, but who?

 

It could not be Arwen. She had a room prepared for her down the hall, with the rest of her family. And while he was eager to share his bed with her, it would not do to risk impropriety this close to the wedding. So who could it be? He could of course uncover his head and look at his companion, but the idea that he couldn’t remember who it was troubled him. What if he turned over and found a stranger? Or worse, what if he found a friend? The unease of not knowing stayed Aragorn from taking any action to reveal the identity of his mysterious bedmate. If he could remember who lay next to him, perhaps his guilt would dissipate. However, when his mind reached back for the events of the night before, everything was a swirl of colors and sounds. Maybe if he went further back, starting at a point yesterday that he remembered. Hopefully then he could remember what he had done last night, and with whom.

 

*******

//The day before//

 

The sun was high overhead, having reached its peak almost an hour before. One could not ask for a more beautiful day. It was the sort of day that beckoned to the soul, begging you to be a part of it and teasing you with the promises of hidden wonders.

 

As he stood before Gandalf, the whole of the White City at his back, Aragorn wished that he could shed his formal garb and answer the summons. But he was no longer a mere Ranger, free to come and go as he pleased, he had chosen his path and he had an obligation to these people. And so he stayed, confined in finery he could not think of as his own, and standing in a city with too little green.

 

Gandalf placed the winged crown on his head, and he felt the burden of Kingship settle firmly on him. It was surprisingly heavy. Aragorn was well use to being a leader of men. While he was a Ranger, and during the War, men had trusted their lives to his decisions. But this was different. This was an entire kingdom depending on him to lead them, and it was a burden for which he had never asked.

 

Slowly, he turned to face the cheering crowd. As had been suggested, he gave a speech, talking about a future of peace and rebuilding, as white flower petals filled the air. Now the only thing left was to walk forward and greet his people. Faramir and Eowen were first, having recovered enough to be allowed to leave the house of healing. Close to them was Eomer, now the King of Rohan, and soon to be attending his own coronation.

 

Then there was Legolas, looking every bit the Elven prince. He had left the city earlier to join the Elven delegations that had arrived. Aragorn had been told of their arrival, of course, but had been too busy with settling the affairs of his war torn kingdom to greet them until now. He clasped Legolas on the shoulder and was about to great his long time friend when he caught sight of his foster father behind the blond prince.

 

“Aragorn, wait…” Legolas protested, but the Man pushed past his dear friend, looking for the face he had been waiting to see all day. A child-like smile of anticipation appeared on Aragorn’s lips as he approached the Elf who had raised him. He could see Lord Elrond’s twin sons, and many other elves that he had known growing up in Rivendell, standing behind the Elf lord, but he could not see the face for which he searched. Aragorn stretched a little taller, not on the tips of his toes, for that would be unseemly for a new king, but just enough to see a bit further back.

 

Elrond sighed softly, “She is not here.”

 

“Who is not here?” Aragorn asked, clearly not paying attention as he continued his search.

 

The Elven lord grasped the King’s elbow, “Elessar, Arwen is not with us.”

 

Aragorn’s face fell, “Where is she? Why is she not here?”

 

“You must continue to smile, Elessar, your people will begin to worry.” Aragorn forced a smile as his foster father continued. “I have been trying to speak with you since we arrived. My daughter has sailed to the Undying Lands, but this is not the time to discuss such things. You must go and greet the Ringbearer.”

 

“Of course… I will speak to you before dinner.” Aragorn said as he moved past the elves.

*******

All things considered, dinner went as well as could be expected. Aragorn sat between Faramir and an empty chair that had been reserved for Arwen. Throughout the meal the Steward did a marvelous job of keeping the King distracted by encouraging the members of the Fellowship to tell the tale of their adventure. After the meal however, Faramir left to play the host Aragorn should have been and mingle with the other guests, and Aragorn was left alone with his thoughts and his wine.

 

“I am sorry that I did not come and tell you, Aragorn.” Legolas said, interrupting the King’s thoughts and sliding into Arwen’s chair. “This was not how you should have found out.”

 

“It was not your responsibility to tell me, mellon nîn. You had your own matters to which to attend. Lord Elrond came and tried to see me, but I never found the time…never made the time to meet with him.”

 

“Lord Elrond said that Arwen had taken ill.” Legolas watched his comrade, trying to gage his response. “The healers could do nothing for her, and feared she might die. Arwen would never willingly abandon you.”

 

“Willingly or not, I have been abandoned. I do not know what I shall do without her, Legolas.” Aragorn took another long drink of his wine.

 

Before the Elf could reply, they were interrupted by one of the serving men. “Excuse me, your Majesty, the musicians were wondering if now would be a good time for the Elven song they prepared for the occasion.”

 

“No, I no longer feel like hearing the music of the Elves.”

 

The Man bowed and began to retreat. “Hold a moment,” Legolas called out to him. “Aragorn, truly I am sorry for your melancholy, but the lack of Lady Arwen does not mean that there are not other Elves here who might wish for a familiar dance.”

 

“Other Elves? Am I to assume you are referring to yourself?”

 

“I shall not deny that I have desired to dance at your coronation,” Legolas ceded. “And I have much missed the music of my people.”

 

Aragorn looked at his long time friend, a hint of ice forming in his eyes, “Who is the maiden you so desire that you would subject me to more grief, just to court her in dance.”

 

Aragorn’s comment struck the elf. Pain flashed in his eyes before being quickly suppressed, “I was hoping I might be honored with a dance from the newly crowned king.”

 

Instantly the Man regretted his harsh words, “I do not dance Legolas.”

 

A soft smile graced the Elf’s lips, “I think we both know better, mellon nîn. Leaving aside that you had intended to dance with the lady Undomiel tonight; you and I have shared a dance on numerous occasions. Or have you forgotten the fêtes we attended… before you began courting the Evenstar.”

 

“How could I have forgotten?” A small smile appeared on Aragorn’s face, “Many a party saw us dancing the night away.”

 

“Aye and we made many an Elf maiden jealous,” Legolas laughed lyrically. “It could be that way again.”

 

Aragorn turned to address the serving man, but he had left some time during the exchange. The notes of a sweet elven melody began to drift over the room. Aragorn stood and bowed deeply, “Prince Legolas Thanduilion, would you honor me with a dance.”

 

“I would be delighted.” Legolas stood up gracefully and took Aragorn’s hand.

 

The man led the elf onto the dance floor, the other couples parting to give them space. Reaching the center of the floor they bowed deeply to each other. Rising they allowed their fingertips to barely touch. Though it had been many years since the pair had danced together it took no time at all for them to regain their synchronicity as they slowly circled each other. After a few moments, other elven couples came to the dance floor, but Aragorn and Legolas seemed to hardly notice them as they moved effortlessly through the intricate steps of the well known dance.

 

The last notes faded as the Man and Elf spun to a halt. Standing still in the center of the dance floor, Legolas gazed at the Man before him. There was a look in his eyes that Legolas could not quite name, but it made his heart quicken and the heat rise in his cheeks. “Thank you for the dance, Estel.”

 

“It was my pleasure.” Aragorn paused, “Legolas, I feel remiss in never explaining about‑”.

 

Pressing his fingertips to the Man’s lips, Legolas whispered, “Not here, dear one. The middle of your ballroom is not the place to dredge up old hurts.”

 

“You are right, as always, mellon nîn.” The King gave a small smile, “Will you walk with me in the garden.”

********

The moon was bright overhead and flowers lined the paths. Somewhere in the garden, night-blooming jasmine grew, and its scent filled the air. The gardens where peaceful and quiet, everyone was in the ballroom, leaving the two warriors to talk in private as they walked. “These are lovely gardens, are they not, Aragorn.” Legolas said, inhaling deeply of the fresh air.

 

“Indeed they are. I am sure I will be spending much of my free time in these gardens. Though I shall miss the woods.” Steeling himself, Aragon once again braced himself to broach a topic that he had been putting off for too long, “Legolas, I owe you an explanation for Lothlorien. All those years ago, Arwen and I‑”

 

“Stop, please.” Legolas held up his hand, halting not only Aragorn’s explanation but also their stroll. “You owe me nothing. You cannot help who you fall in love with. We had made no promises to each other, Estel, and as you say, it was many years ago.”

 

Aragorn took the hand being held before him, and pulled the Elf to a nearby stone bench, “But I did not fall in love with Arwen, not at first. We were close friends, and rumor spread that we were more, but we were not lovers nor were we in love. It was not until I returned from the Golden Woods and learned that you were courting an Elf maiden that I realized the rumors had reached your ears. I did grow to love Arwen, but I regretted never telling you that I had not betrayed you in Lothlorien.

 

There were no words to express the emotions Legolas felt upon hearing Aragorn’s words. While it was true that he and Aragorn had not made any promises to each other, in his heart he had committed himself to the Ranger, and he had been hurt to think that Aragorn had forgotten him so easily. Reaching up, Legolas caressed the cheek of the Man he cared for, feeling the beard that Aragorn had allowed to grow for the coronation. Gradually he leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Aragorn’s. He felt Aragorn’s fingers lace into his hair and the man’s tongue probe gently at his mouth. Legolas moaned softly into the deepening kiss.

*********

Putting the pillow beneath his head, Aragorn rolled over and gazed fondly on the blond angel next to him. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to think of Legolas in anything other than friendly terms that being able to be this close to him once again seemed almost surreal. “You know, melethron, there are enough blankets on this bed for two.”

 

Legolas snuggled deeper into his cocoon of blankets, and muttered something about a ‘filthy human’ and ‘letting me sleep’. Aragorn spooned up behind his elf, “Ah, meleth nîn, there must be something more pleasurable than sleeping that we can do.”

 

Smiling into is pillow, Legolas pressed himself against the man behind him, “Are you not sated after last night?”

 

A deep laugh vibrated the occupants of the bed, “I shall have never had enough of you.” Aragorn began to kiss Legolas’ slender neck, “Besides, we have a lot of time to make up for.”

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this work. I hope you have enjoyed it.


End file.
